Hiding Behind a Fedora Hat
by Anonymous Santa
Summary: "You've gotten quite conceited, haven't you? Asking me to go on a date?" Reborn smirked cruelly at him, fixing his fedora hat lower across his face, his mouth nearly breaking from his impossibly wide grin, "Gained some more confidence after being screwed by me? What, you think that night meant anything? Don't make me laugh, you fucking low-class cow." RL. Yaoi. BL.
1. Don't Make Me Laugh

**[A/N]: I know, I know. I shouldn't be writing another story with a lot of unfinished ones waiting to be updated. But I had the idea of this story written a long time ago! I wanted to write a little ReboLambo love, instead of YamaTsu. I really love this pairing. Warnings: Curse words, mature language, mature themes.**

* * *

_"You've gotten quite conceited, haven't you? Asking me to go on a date?" Reborn smirked cruelly at him, fixing his fedora hat lower across his face, his mouth nearly breaking from his impossibly wide grin, "Gained some more confidence after being screwed by me? What, you think that night meant anything? Don't make me laugh, you fucking low-class cow." With that, the hitman gave the boy one last disgusted look, before slamming the door shut._

Lambo cried after that. He sobbed, he wailed, he bawled. The boy was already fully grown, yet had his defenses easily torn down, reduced to nothing but a sniveling teenager that clashed his usual over-confident bravado.

Reborn didn't give a shit about him.

He should have seen it coming. He should have known better and fought against his stupid hormones. What the hell did he expect when he seduced the older man? Did he seriously think that after getting a good fuck, he'd reciprocate the boy's feelings and suddenly fall deeply in love? It was stupid. He was better than this…

Wasn't he?

_Don't make me laugh, you fucking low-class cow._

That fucking hurt. A lot more than he had let on.

It wasn't as if Lambo was insecure. Hell, he claimed to be a hotshot hitman at the age of five! He was far from unconfident. But to have the love of your life call you such a thing… it was enough to have his teenage self reeling with doubt. Like that time Gokudera had looked at him with utter disgust, or when Hibari delivered a swift kick to his head when he had spoken far too loud—or the times Tsuna would sigh and put a finger at the bridge of his nose due to his shenanigans… was he really _that_ unwanted?

What was wrong with him? Was he just not good enough? Was that it? Did he not make it clear that he was absolutely smitten with Reborn? He had thrown away all his pride and shamelessly came onto him, and then practically left all his dignity as he was dragged into a foreign bedroom. He had lain on white sheets; clothes missing to some random corner, letting another man _see_ him in his most vulnerable state. _Watch_ him unravel and wither, and fall apart, and fly to heaven and back. What more could he give? What was he lacking? What had gone wrong?

He felt so useless.

_Don't make me laugh, you fucking low-class cow._

_Fucking low-class cow._

_Don't make me laugh._

_Don't make me laugh._

_Make me laugh._

_Laugh._

He was nothing but a _laugh_. He was something to look back on for the hitman and _laugh_ about. He was a joke. That night did not mean shit. If anything, Reborn probably faked it all. Had he secretly taken some sort of drug to sport a hard on like that just to mess with Lambo's head? Was it all part of his plan? When the boy had hit on him, was he secretly laughing behind that indifferent face? Gritting his teeth, he growled as he curled on top of his cow print bed sheets, feeling used. He didn't know where his sudden hatred came from, but he felt it pool in his belly so strongly that it nearly made him want to explode.

Next time…

No.

No, there wouldn't be a "next time."

Not anymore. Never again.

* * *

The day after, there was no sign of Lambo.

Not that anything particularly changed in his absence. Everything went as it normally would in the Vongola household. Family members checked in with the boss for their mission reports, members filed into the room trying to sign up for a new quest, and the older, now reliable Tsunayoshi Sawada was once again buried in piles of paperwork, scribbling away tiredly with a cup of coffee at his side.

The brunet finally raised his head with an audible sigh. Stretching out, he satisfied himself with making the muscles on his back pop, and he glanced around the room, taking pleasure in a couple seconds of no paperwork. Reborn was seated casually on one of the black leather couches in his office, sipping a cup of tea. Not really an unusual sight. The hitman mostly took missions at night, where he could sneak around easily in the dark.

It was then that Tsuna noticed Lambo's lack of presence. The cow would usually be found popping grapes into his mouth next to Reborn, far too lazy to attend to any orders—which was fine. Members of the famiglia were lenient on the cow due to his young age.

"Hm, Reborn?" Tsuna called out questioningly. The hitman made a non-committal grunt, and merely cleaned his pistol with a soft piece of cloth, "Seen Lambo by any chance?" The young boss sounded worried.

Reborn expression did not betray him, "Who cares about that insignificant cow?"

Tsuna raised an eyebrow. Hm. Testy, testy. Seems as though someone was in a bad mood. Shaking his head, he looked up at the expensive clock overhead, before grabbing a fresh batch of papers to sign, "Bad day?"

Something behind the rim of his fedora hat flickered, "No."

Tsuna took that as the end of the conversation. The brunet knew the hitman for almost ten years now, and he always knew when something was amiss. He somehow grew quite perceptive of his surroundings and was surprisingly talented in reading another person's emotions, especially the friends he held close to his heart. In his line of work, it was a little hard not to grow a nose for it.

Sadly, along with being able to read his former tutor's mood-swings well, he also knew that Reborn held his own secrets and preferred privacy.

"Say Reborn..." He was sailing through uncharted waters. Even without finishing his sentence, he could already see the muscles of the raven's hand twitch as it fiddled with his weapon.

"What?" Irritable. Blunt. Scary.

Same old Reborn.

Tsuna almost smiled.

He quickly scribbled his signature after giving one document a glance-over, "I understand that Lambo might be annoying to you, but he is still part of the family and you have to accept that." The young Vongola boss looked up from his desk to glance at the hitman who had not even turned to look at him. He sighed, "Listen, he's still a teenager. Cut him some slack. I'm sure he'll grow out of—well, whatever it is about him that annoys you. Just be a little less harsh on him, alright?"

Sadly, he did not take too kindly in Tsuna's request.

"And?" Reborn questioned, a threat hanging in his tone. His expression had not changed, but his eyes grew considerably darker around the edges. The hitman brandished his now glinting gun and raised an eyebrow, "What's you're point? Did you see me being lenient with _you_ when we first met? You were fourteen at the time and I hardly treated you any differently than him."

He heaved a sigh, throwing his hands up, "Jeez, I'm worried, alright? Lambo is my Lightning Guardian and he's also my important friend. As his boss, don't I have a right to worry about my family?" And though he never said it, Reborn never treated Lambo the same way he dealt with others. Tsuna couldn't put his finger on it—he couldn't quite name the suspicious feeling he got as he thought about their interactions together. It... It was almost as if Reborn was scared of the kid.

But why?

"I don't know where all this nonsense came from, honestly speaking. But I _do_ know once you grasp onto a stupid topic, you won't drop it," the other said evenly, pushing up to stand. Tsuna eyed him, trying to predict his next move, but was pleasantly surprised to find out he was merely heading for the door, "If it bothers you that much, I'll go look for him myself." He mumbled to himself.

"Thanks Reborn!" Tsuna called out loudly to the hitman's retreating back, "I owe you one!"

"Don't make me shoot you."

Just as Reborn was about to grab for the doorknob, it was flung open to reveal the subject of both their worries (in Reborn's case, annoyance), running a trade-mark hand through his curly hair. His eyes were half closed as usual, and his expression barely gave away for a smile.

The door rattled hard on his hinges behind him as the Lightning guardian strolled in.

"Lambo!" Tsuna said, mildly surprised, "Reborn was just about to look for you!" Lambo looked once at the hitman, before brushing past him without much acknowledgment. He plopped down onto one of the couches the other previously occupied, and plucked a grape out of the fruit bowl.

Popping it into his mouth, he shrugged at the brunet indifferently, "I was just a little late, boss." He stretched out, resting his head to the back of his seat, "I had a long day yesterday, so I overslept." His voice hinted the misery he felt; he hoped Reborn heard it.

He sneaked a glance at the hitman, only to be disappointed. The man wasn't even looking at him. Reborn was already seated on an armchair at the other side of the room, reloading and cleaning his pistol over and over again. He sighed, shaking his head. Reborn didn't care.

"Oh well, that's fine then." The mafia boss quipped with a stiff smile. Lambo's mood clashed with his usual boasting self. Something was certainly not right. "I'm glad you're fine now." Clearing his throat, he looked around at the uncomfortable silence and spoke again, trying to make his voice turn somewhat reprimanding in hope of gaining some form of childish reaction, "I hope you get an alarm clock set up in your room soon. It's nearly after noon, and we can't have you growing a habit of wasting an entire day away."

"Yeah... yeah. I get it. Sorry." Where was the whine? The stubborn glare, the string of excuses?

Stranger and stranger. The mafia boss didn't know what to say, so he remained silent.

Lambo frowned deeply, unaware of a calculating gaze under a certain fedora hat. He frowned, his lips trembling, forcing himself not to cry. "Hey, boss," Lambo said after a while, standing, and the back of his legs aching. Tsuna looked up from his paperwork with a questioning expression, "Listen... I don't feel up to missions today. I think I'm sick." He swept away his bangs from his eyes and exhaled, "Can I have a day off?" Considering that half the day was practically done, it didn't seem like there was a point in working anyway.

Tsuna looked baffled, "Oh, sure! Are you going to be okay, Lambo?" And that was just what the cow needed to hear until he was already on his way for the door.

"I'll be fine," Lambo assured him.

"Sure? I could get someone to drop by at your room later and check up on you."

"Nah, I'm good."

"Alright, if you say so... well, do you want Reborn to come with you—?"

"No!"

With a start, Lambo realized he screamed his rejection with all his might. Tsuna was leaning back on his seat, a perplexed expression on his face as he worriedly gazed upon Lambo's face. Reborn dipped his hat further down, his hands never stopping their task. Lambo stuttered out a weak apology and promptly excused himself outside. He didn't even close the door behind him.

"What the _hell_ was that?"

The other merely shrugged.

He didn't buy it. Not for a second, "Don't give me that crap. You've been acting weird all morning! You've been cleaning that stupid gun for four hours now! Something's definitely bugging you and—" He stood up, his office chair rolling back from him as he gestured a frustrated hand towards the exit, "And how do you explain that? The kid looked like he saw a ghost the moment I mentioned you! How on earth do you expect me to believe you when he just seemed so _horrified_?"

No response.

He groaned and sat back down, snatching up his pen with an angry swipe, "_Fine_. I'm letting it go for now. I've got a lot of work to do anyway. But don't think this is over. I'm getting to the bottom of this!"

Reborn continued to clean his pistol.

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**[A/N]: Please review, my little sockpuppets.**


	2. A Man's Job

**[A/N]: So, some people actually liked this story? Wow. Okay then, there's the next chapter. **

_Proofread by my good friend James. _

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Tsuna worriedly paced the outside of Lambo's room, unsure if he should enter or not. There really was no reason for him to feel uncomfortable or shy in talking to one of his guardians, but even so, the last time he had seen the teen this afternoon, he had broken down and nearly ran over the door on his way out. He wasn't sure what kind of words or actions would trigger such a reaction, so it was best to thread with caution. But at the same time, his concern mixed with his anxiety, and he wasn't even able to stand still.

_I'm an idiot._

The brunet mentally scolded himself. He should have followed Lambo earlier to see what was wrong—the boy was obviously distressed about something, and was in no emotional shape to be outside of his own room—so why hadn't he? With a sigh, he could only blame his paperwork. It was sad being buried under piles upon piles of pure hell, but it was even sadder to think that an all powerful mafia boss's worst enemy was signing documents.

As minutes ticked by, slowly he halted in his pacing, and stopped to stand directly in front of his Lightning Guardian's door, mind already set.

_Alright, let's do it._

Tsuna glanced briefly to his right, where a passage led further down the hall. In the shadows of the waning sun, stood a figure he had sensed to be there from the very beginning. Reborn silently waited there, leaning onto the wall, eyes never leaving the expensive carpet at his feet.

"Worried too?" Tsuna called out pleasantly, though he really meant it to be teasing. He received no response. He rolled his eyes. Typical, "Well, alright then. You can be as stubborn all you want, but I'll figure out what's going on soon enough." He shrugged, before he faced forward once more and stepped over to the large oak door.

Leaning an ear towards the door slightly, he softly knocked his knuckles on the hard wood, and said softly "Lambo?"

Silence.

Dear God, was it ignore the the boss day?

He knocked again, "Lambo? Are you there?" Still, there was nothing. Sighing, he shook his head, "Oh, c'mon Lambo, you can't hide in your room forever! It's almost dinnertime, and no one has seen you around at all today. Are you sure you're not ill?"

No reply. Was the boy purposely ignoring him?

"Please stop sulking, you know no one can handle it when you cry," Tsuna felt oddly panicked at the thought, "Please tell me what's wrong! I promise I'll let you eat as much dessert as you want tonight if you come out now. You love ice cream right? Chocolate, strawberry?" He tried to smile with his voice, "It'll be delicious and you know it! There'll be grape flavored ones too. I'll ask the chefs to whip it up for tonight. You can't deny an offer like this one. What do you say?" Strangely enough, there still was no peep from behind the door.

Tsuna blinked.

That was weird. Usually, Lambo would have caved in at the offer of sweets and ice cream—and the boy couldn't refuse grapes at all either. Something was off. Was he really _that_ mad?

"Lambo, this is ridiculous!" He knocked louder this time, "Come out now! Tell me what's bothering you! Is it Reborn? Did he do something to you? Did you get into another fight?" Reborn scoffed in the background, not happy with being mentioned in a negative way, "Lambo?"

Why wasn't he answering him?

No, something wasn't right. It wasn't like the teen to do this.

Suddenly fearing the worst, the brunet hurriedly grabbed onto the brass knob and yanked the door open, slightly surprised that it was unlocked. Quickly, he jogged inside, noticing that the lights were all off and the curtains were all drawn. His eyes searched around for any signs of danger but there was none. The bathroom door was closed, and as Tsuna made a move to open it, he found that it too, was empty.

He stared around the deserted room.

"_Lambo?_"

He whirled around as he heard footsteps by the door. The hitman stood at the entrance of the boy's room, a strange expression on his face. Tsuna made a step towards his former home tutor, but the man had already turned around sharply on his heel, muttering something along the lines of, "That brat..."

* * *

With a sigh, Lambo leaned back onto the soft cushions of the café's chair. He had picked a table facing away from the door, and near the window where he watched the sun setting slowly through two tall buildings. As cowardly as always, he decided to take refuge into the nearest café, instead of heading up to his quarters like Tsuna thought he would.

He had lied to the brunet when he claimed he was sick. Honestly speaking, the wounds from last night were still fresh and open, and he could barely contain his emotions when placed in the same room as the hitman for far too long. True, Lambo was no longer a child, but considering the words that slashed into him so deeply, it was hard to maintain an apathetic façade, regardless of age.

He was boneless. As usual, he was running away from his problems, unable to confront them head-on. He didn't understand how everyone seemingly stood up to challenges with ease—it made no sense to him.

He fought the urge to bury his face in frustration at his own weakness. They were right. He was a coward. He didn't deserve the title of Vongola's Lightning Guardian.

_Don't make me laugh, you fu—_

Enough.

Pressing his lips together in a thin line, he reached forward to pour more milk into his coffee in an effort to distract himself. The drink bubbled in the white Styrofoam cup, a haze of mist swirling up to hit Lambo's cheeks. He picked up the cup gingerly to take a sip, and then nursed it in his hands as he sat back to clear his head.

He absentmindedly thumbed the _Royale Café_ that was inked clumsily on the side of the cup (despite the name, Lambo was under the impression that this wasn't exactly the most sophisticated café in Italy), and shifted in his seat. He let his eyes travel around the room, watching as a blonde man sat alone a few ways from him, as some women gossiped quietly in a corner, and as a little brat prodded the owner's cat with the end of his fork.

Yet, as he forced himself to drink in all these details, he couldn't quite get his mind away from his whirling thoughts. The way Reborn had smirked at him, the way those cold eyes seemed to laugh at his expense and look at him as if he were a child. It never really occurred to him until then, but the hitman treated him way too differently from the other guardians. He never placed trust in the young teenager, never forced him to go on terrifyingly difficult training in order to get stronger, and never asked anything from him. It was as if… he couldn't rely on Lambo.

No. There was no need to think about it. Stop it. Forget. Forget. He needed to commit to forgetting about it. He needed to control his emotions and learn to protect himself. After all, Reborn didn't seem to care at all—so why should he? He needed to… he needed to…

Tolerate.

Yes, that was the word. Tolerate.

Sighing, he continued to eye his surroundings to distract himself, focusing particularly on the back of the blonde man's head, sitting alone on a table. It wasn't as though anything about the stranger particularly drew him in—he just didn't quite know what to look at. He studied the blonde hair, the slumped shoulders, and the foot that continued to tap impatiently. Did his date ditch him, perhaps? He let out a small snort. Maybe he wasn't the _only_ one with love problems—and if anything, that thought gave him a small bit of comfort. Imagine his surprise, when the man in question turned around to survey the room as well.

And happened to meet eyes with him.

Wait a minute, he knew that face anywhere!

"Lambo?" Colonello said, mildly surprised as he rose from his own seat. A moment passed as they both stared at each other, until the blonde decided to move towards the teen. Finally, as he drew closer, he began to grin widely at him, pace quickening, "Oh hey, it _is_ you! What're you doing here, kora?" He stopped as he reached the Lighting Guardian's table, holding a somewhat strange aura about himself than usual. His rugged blonde hair was spiked as always, but his he had gotten rid of the army-like attire he usually wore, and was dressed quite smartly—if not casually. He looked nothing less than a normal person going about their own daily business, and yet no one could deny how handsome he looked.

Despite himself, Lambo managed an actual smile, "Oh… Colonello. I didn't recognize you at all! You're… um, you look different." He gestured at the other man in hopes of delivering his message a little better. At this, Colonello seemed to grow slightly sheepish as his grin turned into a slightly embarrassed smile, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his head.

"Yeah… well, I was expecting someone." He shrugged, as he pulled back the seat across from Lambo, and plopped down. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he continued, "And as you can probably see... that didn't end so well, kora. Not that this day's been that great anyway..." He sighed. "Not to mention the fact that those ladies over there keep whispering and staring at me. It's freaking me out, kora." Lambo looked over at the women he saw in the corner previously, glancing at the both of them ever so slightly.

Surprisingly, he found himself laughing at this, "They're just thinking you look attractive. Don't worry about it."

The other seemed to perk up at this, taking a small look down at his clothes, "You really think so, kora?"

"I think you look great." Lambo politely offered his compliment, feeling a little bit more cheery with someone to interact with. However, it was a wonder why the older man was so concerned about his appearance. The cow never pegged him as the type to care about such trivial things, "Who were you waiting for though?"

"Well…" Colonello almost seemed uncertain to speak, but managed to say it anyway, "Lal."

Lambo stared.

"Uh, I think I might back head you wrong, but did you say—?"

"Yeah, I was waiting for Lal."

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

Hold on a second here.

_What?_

"_Lal Mirch_?" He all but screeched, "Why in the world are you waiting for _her_ in a restaurant? She's hates your guts! Didn't she say one time that she thought you were annoying and wanted to kill you?" At his words, the other visibly flinched. It was so uncharacteristic of the usually confident and loud Colonello that Lambo was temporarily taken aback. It was as if the blonde only showed this vulnerable side when that woman was mentioned. Insecure. Unsure. And the only way a person could be stripped of confidence so easily was if…

Hardly daring to believe it, he asked, "Are you _in_ _love_ with her?"

The boy already knew the answer before he heard the reply. Yet, the confirmation was still there, albeit very softly. "…Yes."

"Oh."

Silence.

No one really knew what to say. Still, it was true. Despite being gay, even if he was into girls, he couldn't quite understand what was so attractive about Lal Mirch. She was a firm, solid, no-nonsense type of person that barely showed interest in anyone romantically—hardly seeming compatible at all with the Rain Arcobaleno.

"W-Well um, how did it happen?" Lambo inquired, not entirely comfortable with how everything turned quiet, "She was your instructor right? I heard from some people that her training was terrible. Did she treat you differently?"

Colonello grinned, "Lal? Treat _me_ differently? Nah, she was strict as hell! I couldn't really blame her though. I was a brat back then kora, shamelessly coming onto her as a joke."

"Oh. Did that, um, do anything?"

"Bah, hardly! As you can imagine, she didn't take my advances very well. You know how she is... she's blunt." Yet even though his words were negative, as he spoke, there was an unmistakable fondness in his tone, "She outright called me the 'shameless newbie soldier that hits on his instructor.'"

"That's harsh," Lambo couldn't understand how the other dealt with her, "I can't imagine how you could have survived."

"I don't quite know myself, kora," the blonde scratched his chin, looking up at the ceiling. "At first she wouldn't accept me and kept calling me weak. I was younger than her, and she was more experienced as a COMSUBIN member." He smiled, "But I wouldn't settle for a no. I wanted to get stronger more than anything, kora. I was so hell-bent on proving her wrong, that I tried everything I could for her to notice me." He leaned back again and let out a satisfied sound, "And it actually kind of worked. So I don't think she really hates me as much as she lets on... I hope."

There it was again, a thread of insecurity. Love was strange.

"Alright, I get how it all happened but," the boy was still not convinced, "how did you fall in love with her? Did you already love her when you kept trying to court her?"

"Well no. I mean, it was all good fun at first but... I guess once you spend every day with a person for so long, you start to slowly get used to it, kora. Every moment you've spent with them turns more special and soon after you just can't imagine a day when they weren't by your side." He laughed, "I know it sounds cliché, kora. But you're still young, so it's fine. You don't understand yet what it's like to love a person so much that you'd be able to look past all of their faults and accept it all as a part of them."

Lambo nodded slowly, unsure if he was supposed to take offense to that or not. He was just so tired to be thought of as a child.

"I might not know what it's like to—well," he paused, "to love someone so much like that. But I might have an idea of what you're feeling."

Colonello stared at him for a moment, "You're in love with someone, kora?"

"See, that's the thing." The cow frowned, taking another sip of his coffee before placing it back onto the table, "This person that I'm in love with is older than me—kind of like you and Lal. And like Lal, he's also blunt and harsh." He slowed down at his words, worried that the other might catch on to who he was talking about. Settling back in his chair, he faced away to look out the café window, watching as the sun began to sink in a sky of orange colors. "He's a really scary guy, to be honest."

"And... this person is part of Vongola, yes?" came the slow reply.

"Oh, um—yes, of course."

"Well, who is it?"

He flushed, "No one you know."

The other nodded though didn't seem as though he believed it, "Right."

The teen cleared his throat, "Anyway, he's already denied my feelings for him." Placing his hands on his lap, he twiddled his thumbs together anxiously, "He did it so cruelly and didn't even accept me." Lambo felt something well up in his chest as he spoke, as though the wounds he tried to bury were once again rising up to the surface. It took a while before he received a response.

"Do you still have feelings for him, kora?"

The young boy stared down, unable to meet the man's eyes. "I told myself I wouldn't. He already made sure to absolutely crush me after we did..." He coughed, trying to get his voice normal, "did something."

The other raised an eyebrow questioningly, but seemed to understand, "Something?"

"Er, yes. We did some activities."

"You had sex?"

Lambo fought the urge to slam his face into the window. "Yes, we did." He heaved a sigh, "And after that, he basically threw me away."

There was silence.

"Look, I know you probably think I'm too young to be having these feelings and I'm probably experiencing one of those teenage phases. But I did love him. I did. Or I do. I don't know. I mean... these feelings I have for him are still there. They won't go away and I don't even know why." He gave a short and bitter laugh, "I guess I'm just weird."

More than weird. He must be a fucking masochist. Why did he allow himself to suffer like this?

"Well, I suppose it's my turn to ask then, kora." The blonde said as Lambo looked up at him questioningly, "You asked my about why I loved Lal right? Well, with the things this person has done to you, I've got to ask the same... what made you love him in the first place?"

"That's..." He searched deep within himself for an answer, and when he thought he wouldn't be able to reply, he was surprised when the words poured out of his mouth as though he rehearsed and committed it to memory, "I met him when I was young. I was a kid, and as you probably remember, I was really loud and stupid—"Lambo ignored the '_you still are_' the other coughed"—and frankly, I have no idea how he put up with me. In fact, he hardly did. He shot me, and hurt me, and made me cry so many times that I can barely remember why I was even crying anymore. But it's like you said, I spent all my time chasing after him and trying to prove to him that I wasn't just young and weak, that seeing him every day became normal for me."

The blonde allowed the other to pause for a moment.

"I guess that's why I spent a lot of time with him. I was trying so hard to earn his attention and acknowledgement, that before I know it, here I am." Despite himself, he couldn't hold back a chuckle, "You said that when you've been next to a person for so long, you couldn't bear to live without them by your side. And it's true. I can't imagine living without him there—it just doesn't make sense to me. A world without Reborn is—"

He froze, shocked. He just... he said... he just completely blew it. Once again, he had failed at something. Him and his fucking mouth. Fighting the urge to groan, he sat there without moving, feeling sick.

To his surprise, the other merely nodded, and said, "I knew it, kora."

He grinned at the teen's dumbstruck look and explained, "Hey, Reborn's my rival. You can't just expect me not to know who you're talking about when you perfectly describe a man I've known for the longest time. It was quite obvious kora, so don't worry about it."

"I... okay."

The man laughed and shook his head, before his face turned oddly neutral. "In all seriousness though, loving a man such as Reborn is risky, kora. You can't be emotionally and physically attached to him without having any scrapes and bruises. Even when _I_ was befriending him, he had the strongest walls built. He's a complicated guy, that Reborn. He probably does the cruelest things to the people he cares about most, kora. Remember that."

Blink, "I don't understand."

"Of course you don't. But that's alright."

He was still confused, but let the matter drop. Instead, he felt oddly sad, "I've known him for almost all my life and yet I still don't know much about him." He visibly sagged in his seat, looking quite upset, "Why won't he open up to anyone? Or it specifically just me? Is something wrong with me, Colonello? Does he just not think I'm strong enough or trustworthy enough?" Lambo didn't even know why he was spouting out his insecure feelings, but he had so many unanswered questions that it made his head whirl.

And yes, it might have something to do with the fact that he was still young, but that didn't mean that he didn't feel any pain.

He didn't want to be treated like a child anymore.

Colonello took a moment to silently gaze at the person in front of him, eyes calculating. The boy felt scrutinized at that brief cessation, feeling unable to move from the constricting stare the other held. It was as if his emotions were slowly being opened up as though it were the smooth pages of a book.

Finally, the other shook his head, and ran a hand through his pale hair, sitting up properly on his seat, "_Alriiiight_, kora." He watched as the boy looked at him in puzzlement, "Let me tell you something."

"A-Alright."

"Lal didn't accept me at first, kora. You know, she still hasn't. I know deep down that I'm winning over a part of her each day, and even if it's slowly, it's still happening. And sometimes I feel like I should give up and that it isn't worth it. Do you know how much of a confidence dropper it is to have the woman you love openly reject you, kora? It doesn't always work out—most of the time it's painful and embarrassing." He laughed as he cocked a head towards the table he previously occupied, "Hell, did you see me there? I was completely stood up, kora! But that doesn't stop me from trying." He smiled, "And sometimes, that's all you got to do."

Lambo merely sat motionless on his seat once Colonello had finished speaking.

"But how do you deal with it though?" He mumbled, "It must be so painful to be turned down so many times. You love her after all. How do you cope with this type of feeling?" This feeling of uselessness and hurt. As though whatever he did wasn't good enough, "How do you manage?"

At this the other seemed to swell with confidence, "There's no 'how' to it, kora. You just have to. Coping with such feelings and persevering through it is a man's job."

A _man's_ job...

"As expected, you're still just a kid." He chuckled, "And it seems as though you still have a lot to learn about a man's emotions as well."

A man's emotions?

"E... Excuse me?" He stumbled over his words, utterly bewildered by the shit-eating grin the blonde was sporting. When had their serious conversation suddenly turn funny? Had he missed the joke somewhere or was he being blatantly laughed at without even knowing it? Deciding he didn't appreciate either scenario, he gritted his teeth and had a childish retort on the tip of his tongue, when Colonello, still smirking, pointed a finger behind him as if to answer his unspoken question.

Puzzled, he swiveled in his chair to look at what the other could possibly be pointing at.

His eyes widened.

"Re—"

—born.

The name had faded in his throat, and he nearly choked as the hitman stood behind his chair, the café door swinging in the background to an eventual close. Why hadn't he noticed the bell? Reborn's teeth were bared, his stance tense and lacking the smug, holier-than-thou aura he usually exuded. His indifferent mask had disappeared, and was replaced by an uncharacteristic frown. He did not look pleased at all.

"_What have you been doing all this time, cow_?"

Lambo couldn't help but flinch as he heard the gruffness in his tone. Fuck, was he pissed. Though, no one could blame him. Far too late, the Lightning Guardian had noticed that it was already night, tall lamps already beginning to light up in the streets as people walked by. How long had he stayed in this stupid café?

"Actually no, let me ask a better question," Reborn quipped evenly, his face betraying his voice. The boy saw the hitman's sharp eyes flick over to Colonello, before he began speaking again, "What have you been doing all this time with _him_?"

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**[A/N]: Oh dear. **

**Anyway, please review! I really enjoy hearing your comments. Even if it's just to drop a word, I'd greatly appreciate it!**


	3. Growing Up

**[A/N]: Sorry for the wait.**

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"Ouch. Now you're just hurting my feelings, kora." Colonello feigned hurt, looking somewhat amused at the predicament. Lambo looked at him sharply, as if to tell him to shut his trap, but the blonde would not have it. Being a rival of such a man had its moments of bravery after all.

Reborn did not look as though he was joking, however. Instead, he stared the other down, not seeming to be fazed by the lack of fear in his fellow Arcobaleno's blue eyes.

"Answer the question."

Not a peep from Colonello.

Lambo nearly yelped when he realized the words were directed at him; he shot wary glances at the blonde behind him as though to ask for help, but none was given. Trying very hard not to hyperventilate and show more of a child of himself, he willed his heart rate to calm down. There was nothing for Reborn to be mad about, so there should not be a problem. He was most probably just forced by the boss to search for him and felt annoyed that his perfect schedule was ruined. Lambo would simply just apologize and everything would be just fine. Alright, alright, alright. Calm.

But before he could speak, Colonello had already rounded the table and joined the boy's side, smoothly draping a hand over the other's shoulders, still grinning, "Oh, we were just having a small chat, kora. Nothing big. You know, just a small conversation between fellow _buddies._" His arm tightened around the youth's neck and brought them closer together, "Would you like to know about it? Are you curious, kora?"

Lambo could feel the horror piling up in his chest as he realized what the other was doing. Quickly he tried to pull away from the man but was restrained by the hand that had moved down to hold him by the hip, "Colone—"

"Whatever you and that cow speak about is of no relevance to me," Reborn replied frostily, already stepping forward to grip Lambo by the arm, "However, since he's still a _child_, we have strict curfews that the younger members of our Famiglia follow. And as part of the Vongola," the Lightning Guardian winced as the fingers dug into his forearm, "I expect everyone to respect the rules and that includes you." The boy couldn't even begin to fight the sinking feeling in his stomach as he realized that the hitman had offered no reaction to Colonello's actions.

Just following orders.

This was too much for him.

"I just came here to relax for a bit... I didn't mean to disobey or disrespect anyone," Lambo said softly, unsure of why he was keen on explaining himself, "And then, by coincidence, Colonello just happened to be here, and we decided to talk for a bit. That's all. I didn't even notice it was already dark out." His voice turned into a mumble, "Um... sorry." He ended lamely, expecting to receive a blow to the head or a sarcastic remark, but was surprised to find that Reborn had merely looked at him, before yanking him away from the other man.

"Let's go."

"Oi, wait a minute there, kora!" The other moved forward, raising an eyebrow, gaze focused over the boy's head and to the world class assassin in front of him, showing not even the ounce of fright, "The kid's almost," he counted off on his fingers for a moment, before facing up again, "eighteen now. I think. Er, I doubt he needs to have a babysitter to watch his every move. He's getting older now, he has the right to do as he wishes."

Lambo had the giant urge to give him a big hug as he looked up at the other with admiring eyes, but his thoughts was pulled off its railings when he heard the icy retort from above him, "I've known this kid since he was wearing diapers. He's bound to cause trouble the moment I leave him out of my sight." Reborn snapped. That... that was just pouring salt on the wounds. Honestly, when would he stop making Lambo feel as though he were nothing? When would he start begin to think that 'this kid' would one day grow up and would not need his guidance any longer?

"Well, you obviously hate the job, kora. So why not hand him over in my care then?" Colonello challenged, stepping closer with conviction. Lambo knew it was merely an empty offer—the other was simply testing to see what Reborn's reaction would be, though he couldn't deny how slightly grateful he was of the other's aid, "You don't have to take care of him anymore. You don't have to worry about him getting into trouble. How about it, kora?" Silently, the teen was hoping for something, even though he knew nothing would come out of such threat.

He looked up, unable to stop the hopeful look that crossed his face.

"Shut up."

To his expectations, Reborn did not even acknowledge the proposition, and unceremoniously began to drag away Lambo behind him. "We're going back." Looking unsatisfied with the reaction, Colonello made a mock action as though he was tipping his hat, before he stepped back and plopped down onto the chair Lambo previously occupied.

Looking back and forth at the two men, Lambo dug his heels onto the floor, "Wait a second! I haven't paid! My coffee—"

"Colonello will pay for it," he snapped, as the boy glanced the blonde left behind at the table. The other mouthed a silent 'sorry,' and then with an apologetic smile, lifted up Lambo's drink, and brought it to his lips.

Wait! That was an indirect ki—

"_Come along_. Everyone's waiting."

All Lambo could do was to shut up as the hand upon his arm jerked him out of the café doors rather roughly, the bell jingling loudly in their wake. He flinched as the night air attacked him through his thin clothes, thawing at his now goose-pimpled skin.

"Do you know how many people are worried right now?" The former home tutor asked, hat tipping downward, surprising the youth behind him, "Tsuna was concerned for your well-being and even went up to your room himself. Imagine his surprise when you were missing." He clicked his tongue loudly, as if he had tasted something foul in his mouth, "Yet I find you here with a man. You're lucky it was Colonello who happened to come across you and not someone dangerous from another mafia family." He growled, "You truly _are_ a child."

_Stop reminding me._

"I..." Dare he rebel? Would it cause him a beating? The hitman was frightening and left no room for defiance as far as his experience could tell, "I'm not a child anymore. I've grown up. I just wanted to relax there undisturbed."

Reborn scoffed, "You pick a café near the Vongola mansion and sit near the windows where everyone can clearly see you; and yet you say that you didn't want to be found?" Lambo blushed, unable to deny that he had at least thought that he had wanted the other to look for him even a tiny bit, "Either you really are just another snot-nosed brat who seeks attention, or you _are_ just a terrible assassin." They rounded a bend in the streets, and strode over to an deserted alleyway.

Alone now. With a man trying to bite his head off. Great.

"That's—" Reborn knew that Lambo could never win an argument between the two of them—as hard as it was to admit it, he just was not witty enough to come up with clever retorts. The man was purposely humiliating him, knowing well that the other had no chance.

"In which case, you need to stop being so immature and _learn_ that our Famiglia is immensely well known within this country—and you being a guardian of the boss himself makes you a possible target among other mafiosos. Honestly. When will you learn?" Though the boy couldn't see his face, he could practically hear the disapproval in his tone, "I thought you were an idiot and you just had to prove me right. The other guardians at your age had already—"

Stop it. These words.

Child, kid, low-class cow.

When will you ever learn? Making me laugh, when will you learn? Stupid, child.

These phrases drummed loudly through his ears.

"Stop it." Lambo wrenched his arm away from the iron grip, and planted both his feet on the ground, scowling. "And how would I know differently?" He was unable to meet the inky eyes that had turned to look at him in distaste, "Have _you_ ever taught me? No! You've trained and worked with the others yourself and given them help. All _I've_ been doing is watching as everyone gets stronger and stronger around me... Why? Why won't you trust me enough to teach me? How can I meet everything you expect of me when you won't even tell me anything?" He turned away with a pained expression on his face.

No one helped him to get better at anything. He felt as though the hitman expected so much of him, and yet was too afraid—or rather, too disgusted—to even teach him.

"Don't let yourself become prey to your emotions," Reborn chided, ignoring the weak protest, "Calm down and look at your face. Look at how pitiful you are right now. Get a hold of yourself!" The last statement was sharp, but Lambo was not deterred as he pressed on.

"You... you hate me don't you?" He continued, "You hate me. You don't think I'm worth you're time, and that's why you won't teach me anything. You don't think I can handle it. I'm just an insignificant cow, right? A kid that's been following you for all his life! A laugh!" His voice started to get higher and higher as he spoke, "Then if so, why did you entertain my hopes? Why did you sleep with me last night? If you hated me so much then why did you even lay your hands on me in the first place!"

His fists were at his sides, knuckles already turning white.

"Tell me _why_?"

During his speech, Reborn had turned away slightly, his body angled in the way that cloaked his face in darkness. There he was again, hiding behind that stupid hat. That annoying barrier blocked his feelings from suspecting eyes, and the brutality of his words were amplified with the fact that no one knew what thoughts he possessed as he said them.

Still though, that was no reason to refuse the boy's question.

The man did not speak at first, and stood there, only listening to Lambo's loud inhales and exhales. Thinking again. Calculating. Looking for an excuse. Trying to remain his composure as the calm Reborn. Once he replied, there was a faint but noticeable rumble in his words, "You don't know a thing of what you're talking about, _brat_, and I suggest you stop before you make an even bigger fool of yourself." He glowered, "Don't run your mouth and think you've got an idea of what's going on when you don't."

He then put his back to the other and began to walk away.

"Wait!"

Lambo had rushed forward and seized the back of Reborn's coat, not surprised when the sudden weight barely made the other stumble, "I said wait!" The only bodily response he received was a slight tilt of the head in his direction as if to signal that he was listening, but the other was still faced in the different direction.

Not even worth his glance? Not even worth anything?

"What is it, _now_?" The exasperation in his tone was clear. And yet, as the hitman hid his thoughts behind the brim of his hat once more, the Lightning Guardian could not even find the words to convey the feelings inside him. The expectant posture the other held was driving him to panic, and the only thing that he could think to say was:

"I... I love you!"

Reborn stilled for a moment as if he weren't breathing, before there was an edged whisper of, "_What _did you just say?"

What was the surprise? He had already revealed this fact last night, had he not? Was it really a shock or just annoying to him? Lambo feared that his words had somehow snapped the man's patience and would drive him to violence. It was scary. Reborn was scary. Not a soul in the world could deny that.

But that wouldn't stop him. It was time to be a man and stop running away. He needed to face his problems.

Surely, this was right thing to do.

Right?

Lambo's eyes were glued to the pavement as he grappled onto the other, throat swelling up in emotion. He ignored it as his own nails dug into his palms, even through the fabric, and gritted his teeth, unable to say anything else other than, "I've said it before and I'll say it again. I l-love you. I don't know what else to say or what to do. I know you think I'm still a kid. I know. I've been reminded that all my life." The hold of his hand was nearly vice-like now, "I have no idea how to express myself other than shouting out my feelings like a this... So, I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you." His feelings poured out of his mouth, unable to stop, "I love—"

But before he could finish, he was suddenly grabbed and thrown back roughly into the brick wall, yelping as long and powerful arms caged him on the spot.

"I—wha—"

"Shut up," Reborn hissed, practically towering above the smaller youth, "Just _shut up_."

"Rebo—"

Lambo made an effort to protest but the large hand that was previously at the side of his head, had moved quickly to cover his mouth, squeezing his cheeks rather painfully and muffling his words. The long fingers dug into his jaw in a nearly bruising grip, almost silencing him from the pain alone. Deciding that it was wiser to remain silent, he unwittingly held his tongue, unable to come up with any remarks or actions that would be useful.

He was so useless.

_I'm scared_, he thought, shamefully.

Against his will, tears started pool at his eyes. He tried to cover them, but the other already noticed.

The hitman's head bowed further, his hat lowering to hide the top half of his face. The only structure visible was his mouth that was twisted into a scowl. Such an expression did not fit him at all, the teen noted. He looked better with an indifferent expression—the strong, passive, indestructible Reborn that was immune to all emotions. Maybe even a smile... though he didn't think the other was capable of such a feat at all.

"You..." The growl was clear and frightening, "You don't know a _single_ thing..." He gritted his teeth, frustrated, "You of all people would _never_ understand. Do you think I don't know? That..."

He stopped, and refused to look up.

_That what?_

Even if he tried to speak, Lambo's words would be muffled anyway, so he said nothing. Reborn's hand radiated some sort of heat that he couldn't understand, pulsing underneath such cold and lifeless skin, making his heart race in ways it shouldn't have been. Why should he feel this way? This man in front of him made him absolutely miserable. Reduced him to tears after he swore to be tougher and manlier. The other seemed to strike down his defenses without even brandishing a gun, or lifting a finger.

It was just that easy.

Sniffing back tears, he forced himself to calm down.

To tolerate. It was no use crying.

He raised his gaze to the other, not surprised to find that his line of vision was blocked by that stupid hat once again. Always with that hat, always. He was so curious to...

He raised an uncertain hand up to touch the Reborn's face, and for some unfathomable reason, there was no response. No response. No biting words, or sharp scolding. In fact, the hitman almost seemed to lean into his fingers—but he was sure that was just his imagination.

Gulp.

Anyway, the fact that he received neither a chop to the forehead, or a kick in the gut meant it was okay... It should be a clear sign that he wasn't overstepping boundaries, right? Cautiously, he continued his actions, feeling a tiny bit more sure of himself. The skin underneath his touch never failed to surprise him—Lambo was quite pale himself; Reborn, on the other hand, was on a completely different level of white. His skin was somewhat alabaster in color, clear and pure, and striking when the blood of his opponents splattered onto him.

So pure when the man wearing it was anything but.

The grip on his mouth slackened and eventually lowered, as he stroked the other's cheek. Transfixed, he raised his fingers higher to pull up the fedora hat and possibly end this barrier of communication, only to have his hand caught and forced down before he had the chance.

"_Don't_."

Again, eye-contact avoided.

"Why?" He asked, confusion clear on his face.

There was a scoff, as though he had asked something very stupid, "You'll never understand."

"I _want_ to understand." He said, almost pleadingly, "Let me in your head... what are you thinking?"

"What would a child want to know about my head?"

That was a very good question.

"If I knew the answer to that, I'd be a happier person." He gave a long sigh, not knowing why he felt so truthful all of a sudden, "Just tell me."

Reborn turned away slightly, clicking his tongue, "Tch. So persistent."

"But I can't help it." _I just love you_. He decided to leave the last bit out. He didn't want to be pushed back against the wall again and have his speech impaired. And plus, Reborn was scary as hell. He might be a Lightning Guardian, but he isn't ballsy enough to add fuel to the already simmering fire. That was crazy talk and a risk he'd rather not take. Maybe another time. Of course, they had 'another time' to deal with this—heck, they had all the time in the world.

He couldn't ask for the other to tell him anything. They needed to get to know each other better for that to happen.

They needed to spend time together.

Lambo almost clonked his head to the wall behind him when he gasped out in realization, startling the other slightly.

Yes! That's what they needed!

"Of course!"

They needed some time together where they weren't fighting or ignoring each other. They needed to get closer—a lot closer. Closer than the strange brotherly-fatherly relationship they had. Closer than what Lambo had always considered as close. Not close in the sense of how far apart they were standing now, but close as in... close enough to know and _feel_ what the other was thinking without exchanging words. He had spent nearly all his life knowing this man, and yet the relationship they had was further than he originally thought.

So why not change it?

"Yeah, why not?"

Reborn was looking at him as though he had grown five legs out of his nostrils, "What are you going on about now?"

Realizing that he was talking to himself, Lambo looked up at him quickly, "I have an idea!" Baffled by the sudden change of mood, the other decided to entertain the teen's tirade for a moment.

"Let's make a trade!" said Lambo, eyes shining with determination.

"And what would I possibly want from a shit-eating brat like you?"

Alright, here goes.

"Well, you've always been complaining about how I can't fend for myself right?" At this point, the hitman was utterly lost on what the teen was trying to say, "If I take on your training, then it will be a win-win right? I'll be stronger, and you won't have to put up with picking me up all the time like you did now." It might have just been his childish hopes acting up when he saw the other seem a little bit disappointed. But he would not be deterred. He had a plan set, "I'll change myself. I'll make myself smarter and stronger. But for that, I need your help. And the Vongola would do much better with a powerful Lightning Guardian. "

Lies.

Actually, that wasn't the real story. Well, it was true that he _did_ want to get stronger, but not for the reason he was trying to make the other believe. He wanted to be powerful enough to stand by Reborn without being cast to the side—physically and mentally. And besides that, training meant more time spent together, right? Perhaps, he would be able to make the other look at him in a different light, and see that he wasn't just a child, just as Colonello had done with Lal.

"Well, what do you say?"

Reborn was staring at him, still thinking.

"Deal?"

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**[A/N]: Woop, woop, woop, woop. Review!  
**  
**PS: Just a warning though, there will be sex in this story, so watch out if that kind of stuff doesn't fly with you. **


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